The Hot Chick Five Point Paralysing Nerve Block
by Doc in Oz
Summary: Set Between Seasons 1 and 2. The first time Sarah says she loves Chuck. Only problem is, she didn't say it to Chuck. Rated T for language. Now with added adult themes!
1. Chapter 1

As of 03/12/11, I don't Chuck et al.

**Chuck Vs The Hot Chick Five Point Paralysing Nerve Block**

**Chapter One.**

Chuck was serving a customer when she came into to Buy More. As usual, she paused theatrically at the front of the store, searching the whole shop to find Chuck. All an act, since Chuck knew full well Sarah knew where he was the whole time. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw she 'found' him and smiled hugely while she headed straight for him.

God, he loved it when she did that.

Well, it sure beat Casey's version, anyway.

She saw he'd seen her, as he always did, and she nodded in the direction of the Nerd Desk, indicating she'd wait for him there.

Sarah wasn't dressed in her usual Weiner girl uniform, even though it was a Friday. The Weinerlicious had closed suddenly for refurbishment the week prior. Chuck wondered mildly at that, not that he would ever really miss the heartburn inducing ultimate deep crust carbonised death by a multitude of factors that they had on offer over there, although Chuck suspected that the 'carbonised' part had only been added to the menu unintentionally after Sarah started there.

Enamored with Sarah as he was, even Chuck was beginning to suspect that cooking wasn't a skill set that Sarah possessed. The woman could do anything. Except deep fry a God-knew-what on a stick. Maybe when they re-opened, she could work the new soft serve counter, assuming that they put one in. Chuck figured even Sarah would have trouble 'crispy crittering' soft serve ice-cream.

Chuck finished with the technical questions the customer had, and he got Skip to assist them with the actual sale. He headed over to Sarah who was waiting patiently, having stared Lester down into a mild petrified state after he tried to start a casual conversation with her.

"Hi," he beamed for her. She coquettishly dipped a shoulder for him.

"Where's my kiss?" she faux pouted as she stepped in closer.

"Oh, right," he said as he leant in, to peck her on the lips.

Her lips twitched sideways for a moment afterwards. "Hmmm..." she judged the simple kiss, and seemed to find it wanting.

Behind her, Chuck saw Lester scowl. Chuck was halfway convinced that Lester thought he had a shot if he could beat Chuck to Sarah's side, just once. And he might have too, if he'd received the Intersect as opposed to it ending up in one of the Encino Bartowskis. Chuck had discussed this with Sarah once on the drive back to his place after a long, nothing mission. Sarah told him she was immensely relieved that it was Jeff that hadn't been the one with all the nation's secrets in his head. Chuck agreed and had added he was pretty certain that the Intersect wouldn't have survived the accommodations in there.

Today, Sarah was wearing jeans, boots and a short sleaved loose burgundy top. Her hair was in soft waves, falling naturally to her shoulders. She was beautiful. Even if she'd worn the old Weiner girl uniform, she'd have been beautiful. Actually, it would have taken a something made out of a used trash bag for her to have been not beautiful, and frankly Chuck had his doubts about that. Besides, the Weiner girl uniform had a ... certain charm about it. Not he would _ever_ tell her that.

And of course, the other guys (including Anna, just that one time) at the Buy More felt that the Wiener uniform had a couple of points worth noting.

"..So..." he prompted.

"You free tonight?" she asked him with that smile that made his kidneys flip-flop.

"Ahhhh, right. The 'M' word."

"Sorry," she whispered with a grimace, "I'll pick you up about six, we go to Casey's for a briefing, and then out. OK?" she continued quietly as she adjusted his tie.

"You know, Miss Walker, one time we'll just 'go out,' just us. No bad guys, no guns, no car chases... unless you want to watch that new bad guy car chasing gun fight movie with me."

She finished with his tie, and placed a palm on his white Nerd Herd shirted chest. She looked up at him, her head tilted slightly with her lips twisted into an amused shape. "Careful what you wish for Chuck," she said in a quiet throaty voice, finishing with her lips slightly parted.

She was so close, her lips were ready for him, and all he needed to do was lean down and...

Casey said one word on his way past the pair, ruining the moment.

They both backed up clearing their throats. "Right, six. See you tonight then," Chuck tried to keep his voice even.

Sarah swallowed, and nodded.

"Sarah?" he asked as she started to leave, she paused and looked expectantly at him. "What's... why does Casey want chocolate?"

She opened and closed her mouth while what seemed like fifteen expressions flickered over her face, before she settled on saying, "I'll see you tonight, Chuck."

Chuck went back behind the desk, thinking to himself maybe it was some sort of spy code, like 'pineapple' or something.

-o0o-

Chuck got home with about ten minutes to spare. He found Devon in the kitchen sans shirt (no surprises there) as he poured something green and gloppy from the blender into a glass.

"Chuckster! Want one?" he waggled the blender at Chuck.

"Ummm... no thanks..." then the smell of 'green and gloppy' hit him, "...Devon, I'm... I'm good," he continued after a small choking moment.

"Sure? I'll put this in the fridge, in case you change your mind."

'_On the day that Satan skates to work,' _thought Chuck. "I'll, uh, I've got Sarah coming over, so I should get changed."

"You two going out again? Awesome bro!" said the good Captain, holding out a mandatory high five. Chuck noted that Devon had his exercise bike out, ready for a solid night of bachelor fun, since Ellie was working late tonight.

Chuck threw his bag into his room and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower.

He really should learn to plan these things better. Because naturally, Sarah turned up right on time.

Chuck never heard her knock, or Devon's pleased booming, "Sarah!" owing to the fact he was under the shower.

"Chuck's just getting ready for you. Want one?" Devon tempted her with the blender contents that were destined to glue-up the sink some time tomorrow, when Ellie resumed control of her kitchen.

Sarah managed to not gag when the 'green and gloppy' wafted past her, and she shook her head. "I'll, uh, I'll go see if Chuck's ready," she said as she headed to her fake boyfriend's bedroom. The door was ajar, so it was safe, she thought. It turned out she was wrong.

In his defence, Chuck really did have a quick shower. Discovering a hidden camera in the bathroom had taught him that. He darted across the hallway to his bedroom with the towel wrapped around his waist.

He only just missed seeing Sarah enter his room when he walked through the door. Sarah was just realising Chuck wasn't in his room and turned around only to bump into a slightly damp Chuck who was just as surprised as she was.

"Yearagha!" Chuck managed to mangle her name into a surprised yelp.

Sarah remained silent only because she couldn't speak, and noted that Chuck only wore, reading from the top, an expression similar to the type worn by someone who's just realised they've shot a tranq dart into the only pilot while the helicopter is still in the air, and a damp white towel. Which he immediately pulled tighter in an effort to 'hide more.' This had the somewhat opposite effect that he intended, and showed lumps and bumps under the towel in all the proper places as far as Sarah could tell.

And then she realised she was staring, and might possibly be drooling. "Um.." she whipped around to face the corner. "Um.. Chuck, I... Chuck I'm sorry, I ah... Devon..." she pointed vaguely over her right shoulder before her posture slumped in reluctant acceptance. "We're kind of stuck now. In here. Together..." she tried a calming breath. "Chuck, I'm sorry, but right now I'm in here, I can't leave without raising suspicions ..."

"R...r...r...right... because we've seen... we're supposed to be lovers and this is normal, right?" he concluded in a mostly normal voice.

"Um.. yeah."

They stayed frozen, facing away from each other almost long enough for a small glacier to form.

"Sarah, I'm gonna need some clothes..."

"Right! Let me..." she headed to his closet, grateful for something to do. She laid fresh jeans and a blue button down shirt on the bed for him.

"Sarah? Top right draw, I'll need some..."

"Right! Yes..."

Annnd just like that, she was fondling his underwear.

"Um, right," he decided. He had to get changed, and she wasn't going anywhere. So, with a deep breath, and unconsciously sucking his gut in, he stood naked in the same room as Sarah Walker.

But not for long. He grabbed the boxers as quickly as he could, and while he had one leg in, he hopped forward as he reached for the jeans. He was just grateful he didn't fall over.

She heard the metal of the zipper, and he said, "OK, it's safe."

Sarah discovered 'safe' was relative. She turned around, only to find him still shirtless. He leaned past her to reach into the draw for a white under shirt. She froze to the spot at his proximity and part of her hoped she wasn't drooling. She could feel the heat radiating from his body... Oh God, he was hot...

"So..." Chuck said from under his tee as he pulled it on, "...what's our mission tonight?" He was curious, since they hadn't had many night missions in smart casual. Sarah was still in the same clothes as earlier today.

"Oh, you know, rich guy's party, bad guys, guns. Maybe a car chase if we're lucky. You know, just a regular date night with my cover boyfriend."

He smiled at her as he did up the buttons on his shirt. She handed him his shoes and socks. He grunted like a junior Casey, "Dress leathers, huh?"

"Rich guy's party, Chuck. We'll get changed again into something formal later."

Chuck focused on his laces, muttering to them, "Oh, that'll be fun"

When he finished and looked up at her, she asked, "Ready?"

He pulled a thoughtful grimace and nodded. "Wouldn't be a proper Chuck Bartowski date without gun fire and a car chase," he ended with a grin for her.

"Don't forget bad guys."

-o0o-

The three of them stood attentively in front of the plasma screen as the General ended communications in her usual courteous method of stabbing her finger at the cut-off button to prevent any further conversation.

"Right... so, lead me to my tux, my good man," Chuck said to his new valet (who doubled as a very surly bodyguard as well).

This newly minted valet sneered and pointed to the drycleaner bag hanging from a door with a grunt, one of the meatier ones. He then stomped off to his own room to get changed.

Chuck grabbed the bag and paused. Sarah had her own dress bag as well, and would need to change too. "Sarah, you take the bathroom first."

She considered him for a moment, and then said, "Thanks Chuck," with a heart stopping smile before she took her dress bag into Casey's bathroom.

Chuck sat on the couch and undid his shoes. He knew he'd made a tactical blunder. Living with his sister, he knew women took longer getting dressed that what felt like a reasonable time. But then, he couldn't just take the bathroom first.

He wandered Casey's living room / command centre, checking out the big man's small video collection. War and docos he noted. Only one actual _film_ film, Mel Gibson's 'The Patriot.' Appropriate, Chuck judged. He was reading the back, wondering to himself, if it was about time he saw that film again when he heard a door open behind him. He looked around expecting to see Casey (and have to explain why he was pawing through Casey's private things). Only to find Sarah standing in the hallway.

Chuck was surprised at her speed...

And then he saw her dress...

His voice worked the third time around, "Holy bird fuck, Batman..."

That raised her left eyebrow.

"I...I...I mean, wow! You look... Sarah, you're gorgeous."

She stood there, just looking at him with a slight smile on her face. The dress was one of those things that you saw on TV for the Oscars or something. Midnight blue, just a hint of sparkle he thought, but if it was, it was beautifully understated, with a plunging neckline that he understood from the gossip magazines Ellie read occasionally required something called 'Hollywood tape.' At least he hoped this mythical tape was needed, otherwise she might...

And then Chuck hoped fervidly that Hollywood tape _wasn't_ involved. She turned slightly, and Chuck saw that the dress was backless and frankly dipped lower down than he thought possible from an engineering stand point.

"Thanks Chuck, your turn," she indicated to the bathroom. He wondered mildly at the size of her wardrobe... So far, and he'd been paying attention, he hadn't seen her wear the same fancy dress twice. Certainly not this one, he would have remembered this one.

Chuck got changed into the suit. Armani, nice. He left his jeans and shirt on the hanger the suit came on and re-entered the main room, still fiddling with the tie. He knew Sarah couldn't resist 'helping' him with that.

She smirked at him as he flapped the tie at her helplessly, but came over anyway. Chuck's evil plan had worked.

"Christ moron. Didn't you wear a tie at work _before_ you became a walking database?" came the dulcet tones of Casey, as he checked his weapons.

"Yeah," Chuck said, craning his neck to both help Sarah as she worked at his neck, and also to _not_ peer down her dress.

"So how did you tie a tie then?" his expression seemed to indicate he had also added the phrase, 'before you trained the CIA skirt.'

Sarah stepped back to judge her handiwork. "Badly," said Chuck with a straight face. Sarah's eyes glittered at him.

-o0o-

Casey drove the black van full of gear. Chuck was given the keys to the dark seven series Beemer that gleamed even in the night, along with a grunt, and warning about damaging tax payer's investments.

Casey led, Chuck and Sarah followed in the BMW along the highway. The large engine barely making a noise. The pair of them took turns glancing and smiling at each other, but mostly stayed quiet.

Eventually she asked, "Whaaat?"

He grinned at the road ahead, "Just wondering where your gun is."

She grinned at the windshield, but said nothing.

Chuck noted that the alleged Hollywood tape must have been used, since her top stayed in place, doing its job. Eventually Chuck decided this was a good thing, since he was currently driving, and it was distracting enough to be in the same car as Sarah without risking the lives of fellow road users due to a wardrobe malfunction.

They got to the party as planned, the parking valet took the keys while not taking his eyes off Sarah until Chuck cleared his throat. Names on clipboards were checked, and the velvet rope moved aside for them. Chuck frankly thought that Sarah would never ever have problems with his old nemesis, the velvet rope. Certainly not the way she was dressed right now.

-o0o-


	2. Chapter 2

As of 13/12/11, I don't Chuck et al.

And my apologies to any Scots reading this, for my version of Glaswegian. Stitch this, Jimmy.

**Chuck Vs The Hot Chick Five Point Paralysing Nerve Block**

**Chapter Two.**

Sarah clung to Chuck's side as they made their way up the 'Gone With The Wind' styled stairs into the mansion. Inside the doors there was a large room, designed for such parties, complete with another movie styled sweeping staircase, leading to another room upstairs. A lot of white, with classical columns all over the place.

'_Crap!'_ came Casey's voice via the coms units. Chuck looked around, Casey was right, there were a lot of people here.

With Sarah leading him, they began to 'work the room.' There were famous people, this being LA, politicians, their lackeys and a whole bunch of very rich people. Some of the famous people were so famous, even Chuck had heard of them.

It was funny, Chuck thought. At work or at home, she could reduce him to a rambling broken mess by just _being_ there. But now, on a mission, and with Sarah being physically far closer than normal, he was able to function. She still could break him, he knew. The right innuendo at the right time...

The first flash hit him three minutes into the party. He felt her hand tighten in his, and when he was able too, he saw she was looking at him with a silent question. Chuck nodded microscopically. She dragged him into a quiet corner and hugged him, keeping her lips close to his ear, "Casey? Chuck just flashed."

She ignored the little shiver that Chuck tried to silently suffer.

The first time that happened, she thought he'd flashed again. After hemming and hawing for a bit, he glanced at her before looking away and stammeringly muttered, "No, it's ... it's because of... you." She'd looked at him for the longest moment, and eventually simply said, "Oh..."

Now, some six months later, she rather suspected he enjoyed it. She knew she sure did.

Chuck whispered into her earpiece, "Just some drug lord, not for us. The moustache with the ponytail. He's got a large shipment at the port tonight. Container Delta Sierra Kilo dash figures niner fife, thuree ait."

Sarah grinned at the little hairs standing up on his skin, and fought the urge to blow on them just to see what would happen. It was a strong urge.

'_Got him. DSK 9538. I'll pass him onto the DEA,'_ came Casey's call over the coms.

They carried on. After what felt like half-an-hour of glad handing total strangers, with a fixed glassy smile, Chuck muttered to Sarah, "I think my face is going to fall off soon."

She grinned into her champagne glass, and said, "Buck up, buster."

"Chuck!" came a male voice from behind them. Chuck stopped in his tracks, and spun around, almost dragging Sarah off her feet.

"Jase!" Chuck cried back in a pleased voice. Sarah saw a young man, a little shorter and a little wider than Chuck, heading towards Chuck with a broad smile.

The two shook hands enthusiastically, before Chuck remember his manners and turned to Sarah, displaying a huge grin, the type he normally reserved for her alone, or at the very least a new release of some video game.

"Sarah? This is Jason." Chuck alternated looks between the two, "Jason Waterhouse, I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Sarah Walker."

Sarah shook Jason's hand. She also silently noted that Chuck didn't pause, or hesitate in calling her his girlfriend...

"Hi, I'm Sarah," she smiled, flicking her eyes at Chuck quickly. He was genuinely pleased.

"Sarah," said Jason, he glanced at Chuck for a split second before returning to appraise her. "Look after this guy, OK? He's one of the few genuine nice idiots still left."

Sarah grinned at Chuck, "Oh, I noticed that. So how do you know..."

"Jase and I, we used to... Its OK buddy, she knows... we used to build Lego Star Wars models and film them... See? She knows," he indicated her smile with a matching one.

"Geez Chuck, I'm just getting to the point where I can reappear in public... how've you been?"

"...Good. Sarah got me out of the... mess..."

Jason looked at Sarah, and nodded his silent thanks before addressing Chuck. "You're looking good. Did I overhear you saying you had a software company?"

Chuck looked around theatrically, looking for eavesdroppers, "I might have overemphasised my position there. Still just a minion," he confided. "Actually, I think 'minion' out ranks me by..."

Sarah tightened her grip on his arm. "Chuck!" was hissed between teeth.

Jason smiled, "Yeah, me too," then his smile saddened. "Uh, listen Chuck, sorry, but Brad's here too."

Chuck nodded in acceptance. "Fair enough. So what about you? Seeing anyone?"

"Nah, sort of between at the moment... Shit! That's my boss, listen, pretend you're buying shit from me, OK?"

The two friends made a show of shaking hands, clapping shoulders and 'call me' signals, as Jason returned into the crowd.

Chuck turned around to face Sarah's bemused smirk.

'_You done playing happy tree friends, Bartowski?'_ was growled into his earpiece.

"Who's ... Br...Brad?" Sarah asked him.

Chuck held his arm out for Sarah to loop hers into, which she did after keeping her eyebrow a dangerous three millimetres above normal. She ruined the moment by smiling as she threaded her arm into his elbow crook. They resumed their circuit of the room.

"Brad and I went to school together, same year. He was the jock... I ...wasn't. Never majorly picked on, but not a friend. I met Jason... while I was on break from Stanford," Chuck rushed the name of his old college, "mutual friend, the world of Star Wars brick films is wide and vas...ooof! I'm getting to the point, Little Miss Impatient. We'd already become friends before I found out Brad wa... is his brother."

"Ooooh, an arch nemesis," she laughed.

"Nah, I just don't have anything to do with him. And I probably haven't seen Jase for... about three years. He was patient with me after... you know. Stanford."

They paced in silence. After a moment, she looked up at him, but didn't say anything. He smiled fondly at her, appreciating the moment, the sorrow and the silence. Then she smiled at him.

"And aren't you supposed to be married to me, Mister Carmichael?"

"Sorry, the odds are remote, but he does know Ellie... now, can you imagine if I introduced you as my wife..." he looked at her for what was supposed to be just a moment, but it lasted longer than he intended.

_'As my wife...'_ the phrase echoed in her head, and she swallowed as she tried to keep a still face.

"...and frankly I like my eardrums the way they are..." he smiled at the thought, and then looked honestly at her again. "She loves you, you know. Thinks you're the best thing for me..." he said as they headed up the stairs. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but she looked calm.

Chuck flashed three more times before they met their host. Another drug lord, but nothing actionable, a Belgian freelancer and a supposedly dead SEAL with links to a handful of agencies, including Fulcrum.

"Belgium?" Chuck asked slightly baffled at that one.

She just shrugged.

Their gracious host, one Douglas McArthur was on the upper floor. "Thank ye fur coming," was his greeting.

Chuck cocked his head. "Glasgow?" he asked the older man.

"Och weh, Troon. Close enough," McArthur looked at Chuck with a silent question.

"Sorry, bit of a Star Tre..."

McArthur barked a laugh, "Ha! 'I canna change the laws a physics.'"

Chuck looked at his shoes, "Sorry, you probably get that... Sorry! This is my w.. wife, Sarah," he beamed at the beautiful woman beside him.

"Wi huloo!"

"Hi," she shook his hand. Hands, she discovered that McArthur was a two handed shaker when it came to the ladies. "He's a bit of a nerd I'm afraid," she said, cocking her head at Chuck. They both ignored the sarcastic, _'A bit!'_ in their earpieces.

"Ahm gissin' sof'ware," McArthur said, alternating looks between Chuck and Sarah. She grinned broadly at Chuck, while Chuck nodded in defeat.

After a few more pleasantries, Chuck and Sarah continued mingling. Casey asked over the coms, _'You done showing off your new toy boy? We got more bad guys to find.'_

Chuck pretended to run a finger along his face to bring his watch close to his mouth. "Not any more, he's the lynchpin."

She took his hand in hers, _almost_ kissing his fingers so she could say into the watch, "Chuck?"

"Flashed. He was Baader-Meinhof when he was younger. Um, guys, we uh, we have a bomb to find."

-o0o-

"Chuck? What do you mean, _bomb?_ You mean bomb like..." she was trying to think of a way to differentiate the 'kiss-my-asset-like-there's-no-tomorrow' bomb from...

"Like General what's-his-face's one, yes," supplied Chuck.

'_Stanfield,'_ growled Casey.

"Yeah him... well, our Scottish friend back up there has been busy. The Belgian freelancer we saw earlier? He's our _mad bermber_. Casey? I think we need you in here now."

'_Roger that.'_

"OK, Mrs Carmichael. Want to go find a bomb?" Chuck asked his faux wife as he gestured overhead to the rest of the building.

"Yeah...um Chuck?" she asked him. He raised his eyebrows back at her. She continued, "You know we'll... we'll have to...have to have a reason for wandering the rest of this place?"

He nodded in thought, and went through a very quick _Oh shit _expression before giving a trademark smile for her and saying, "The things I have to do for my country."

She leant in close to softly kiss his lips. Just before contact she whispered, "Have to?"

She felt his grin even though he kept his lips in contact with hers. Afterwards, they rested, forehead to forehead. He whispered to her, "I guess I can fake make out with my fake wife..."

When they separated, she gave him a serious set of 'bedroom eyes' before she grabbed his hand and they, obviously to all around them, went in search of somewhere a little more private.

They made their way along the corridor, and at a likely doorway, began to escalate the make out session. She backed up against the door, seemingly lost in his kissing. She felt behind herself three times and eventually opened the door. Chuck noted that the room was dark, and gave her the micro nod to proceed. She dragged him into the darkened room by his shirt with obvious glee.

Chuck opened his eyes, adjusting to the dark, and realised she'd kept the kiss going for a few seconds after the door was closed. _'Just in case someone follows,´_ he figured.

"Right," she said, after she let him go. "Where do you think the bomb is?"

"We..." he needed to clear his mind, and took the opportunity to turn the light on to give himself time, "...we need to find it. Casey?"

'_What?'_

"If you were a mad bomber, where would you plant it?" Chuck asked his watch.

'_Any suggestion what size bomb?'_

"I dunno, it's a bomb."

There was a drawn out grunt at that. _'Maximum damage, basement against a support column or wall. Casualties, I'd plant it -'_

"Where the most people are, got it. OK, Casey? You want to start at the basement? We'll start back on the upper party level."

The grunt through the earpiece _sounded_ like either, 'basement naturally,' or, 'little fat kid,' but what actually came through was, _'Copy.'_

"OK, we'll have to re-join the party," he said to Sarah. She shook her head, and he cocked his head to the side at that.

"We've just snuck off for a make out session. We can't just head back out now. And we'll need to look the part..."

"...Look the part... what does that ...Ho! Sarah! What are you..."

She'd begun untucking his shirt. Her smile was apologetic, and her eyes were sinfully gleeful. She backed away, and her hands moved to the left side of her cleavage. She turned away from him, and her head dipped down as she focused on her work. Chuck heard a small ripping sound, and she held out some transparent tape.

"Can you do one side of my back?"

Chuck's hands now seemed to consist of an odd number of someone else's thumbs, but he separated the fabric from her skin, about belt height to shoulder blade, and he even artistically left an inch of the tape folded over and visible. That was pure accident, but he thought it looked suitable so he left it.

When she turned back to face him, Chuck realised what a magnificent job the tape had been doing... Sarah was now showing a lot more of one side of her cleavage. Would that be a 'cleave?' part of him wondered before he realised he was staring.

"Right!" Chuck addressed the wall to his left. She said nothing, smirked slightly and ran her fingers lightly through her hair, so a few strands were now out of place.

"How's my make up?" she asked. Chuck still was trying to outstare the wall and was losing. "You're hopeless," she smiled to herself, and dug into her clutch for a mirror. After adjusting her lipstick to be smeared the correct amount, she grabbed him by the shoulders, and turned him to face her. Wordlessly, she loosened his tie and top button, misaligned one of his shirt buttons at the lower end of the spectrum and she then appraised the effect.

She noticed he was very carefully looking at her eyes, she smiled encouragingly and said, "It's OK Chuck."

Chuck didn't trust his voice just yet, so he nodded. Eventually he said, "Sarah... I'm sorry..."

She nodded at him and repeated, "It's OK."

She judged his face, and wondered if he needed a smear of lipstick...

-o0o-

Ten minutes later, they snuck back into the party. Chuck noticed some surreptitious thumbs up from some of the men watching them. Sarah smiled demurely, and looked neither to the left nor the right.

'_Where would I hide a bomb,'_ Chuck thought to himself, scanning the room.

Thanks to the TV shows MythBusters and Stargate, he had a rough idea of the size of a block of C4. So assume about three or four blocks... and detonator, and trigger devise... let's say about the size of a briefcase.

'Accidentally' dropping his wedding ring under the table, Chuck checked beneath the table cloth of the buffet, while Sarah was far more subtle checking behind the bar. A pretty girl, a soupçon of 'cleave' and you'd be surprised where that can take you. Or not surprised at all.

Chuck and Sarah cleared the upper floor as best they could without actually calling in the bomb squad, and headed down the stairs as they could hear a helicopter begin a noisy landing outside.

McArthur and an entourage of the Belgian and un-dead SEAL headed out the door for the chopper. Chuck and Sarah exchanged glances. They both agreed, time was running out. Sarah pulled Chuck's iPhone out of his jacket pocket (there was no room in her clutch for hers) and typed in the CIA phone number.

Chuck muttered into his watch, "Casey, we've got maybe five minutes. They're leaving in a helicopter. Once they're clear... that'll be..."

'_Roger that. Nothing down here so far. Three minutes, Chuck, then start getting people out of here.'_

Sarah had the phone to her ear. "We need a track on a..." she peered out the windows as she continued to move, "...Robinson R44 helicopter departing this location. Detain and isolate. Use any federal agency available," she said quietly into the phone. "Understood. Thanks. We'll also need emergency services and a code Bravo squad... Copy."

They began to search the lower room. For the most part, the party ignored them although a couple of people noticed Chuck's mild frantic searching, and gave him the distance normally allocated to street performers, homeless people and that charming older lady with forty seven cats that 'Hard Copy' persists in interviewing.

Casey burst through a set of doors into the lower foyer, "Walker, get the moron to safety, and take these idiots with you!" he barked into his wrist coms pick up.

"Got it!" cried Chuck. "The chocolate fountain. Casey, we have a 'chocolate' situation," he tried to emphasise the urgency of the moment with that secret spy code he'd cracked earlier in the afternoon. And with that, he delved back under the table the fountain sat on.

Which meant he missed something that a lot of people worldwide would have paid good money to see, Major John Casey, USMC and NSA look completely bamboozled. His lips moved silently, for the most part, to frame the words, 'what the fuck?' just in time for Sarah, who had been slightly Pavloved by Casey and his constant use of food spread analogies to refer to their asset, to whirl around and see the look of total confusion on his face.

Truly, she didn't snort aloud. And then she realised what both Casey and Chuck had said, and screamed, "Chuck!" as she raced to him, all she could see was his ass sticking out from under the table cloth. She grabbed him by the belt and started dragging him backwards.

And then Chuck's phone, still in her hand began to ring. From under the tablecloth Chuck, who was resisting Sarah, cried, "Sarah, the phone! Answer the damned phone!" as he slapped at her hands pulling him.

He stuck his head out from under the cloth and looking remarkably calm said, "Sarah, I need you to answer that call," and returned back to his little fort under the chocolate fountain.

Just as she accepted the call, Casey found a fire alarm and tripped it. Over the alarm bell of the fire alarm, she heard Chuck's voice coming from his own phone. "Sarah! Good! Whatever you do, do _not_ hang up!"

After that, he got up from under the table, calmly dusted his knees off and together with Sarah joined Casey in evacuating the building.

-o0o-

Chuck had always wanted to do this.

Just as the fire trucks and police began to turn up, and the evacuees were at a safe distance, and at a diagonal from the mansion. Casey and Sarah had made the group, some still holding onto their champagne glasses, gather at an angle to the building. This would give a better protection from debris if the bomb were to go off.

Which Chuck fully intended to let it do. The only thing preventing that now was the disposable phone hooked into the bomb, waiting for the incoming call to set off the detonation.

Only that couldn't happen while it was connected to Chuck's phone. Chuck held his phone out in front of him like a wannabe MythBuster and said, "Four blocks of C4 in three. Two. One," and hung up the call.

Casey stuck his fingers in his ears and muttered, "Moron," before turning to watch the explosion with a huge smile.

Sarah glanced at Chuck, repeating her proud, "You're hopeless," from earlier with a huge grin, before applying her fingers to her ears.

Chuck pocketed his phone and grinned a genuine 'Sarah special' back at her, then blocked his ears.

After just enough time to begin to think nothing was going to happen, it happened. The flash was whiter than the movies make it out to be, and the noise a lot louder and sharper. The mansion staggered, if a building can stagger. The sonic wave hit, and Chuck felt a solid _thud_ move through his chest which was followed by a wave of heat, and then a chocolate and debris cloud flew out of the former windows and doors.

They'd debated holding the call so the bomb squad could defuse it, but they were advised they had enough to hold McArthur on. Cell tower logs recorded a call coming from a source that tracked the same path and speed that the helicopter was recorded on. This way, it was safer. The mansion was evacuated, they had McArthur and co. and no bomb squad members need risk their lives. And besides, all three members of Team Bartowski had been involved in a couple of bomb situations now. And they really wanted to see one actually go off.

Casey stomped off to intercept the cops after muttering, "Happy now, idiot?" and turning before they could see his smile.

Chuck looked at the beautiful woman beside him, her face lit with a smile, and the glow of the flames and flashing lights from the fire trucks. He shrugged his jacket off, and wrapped it around her shoulders. She took the opportunity to rest in his embrace as they both watched the fire in the mansion.

"So, how was the date, Mrs Carmichael?" Chuck asked the blonde head resting under his chin.

"Oh, you know, just a regular Chuck Bartowski date," she pulled back to gaze into his eyes, "I think Casey missed his gun play, and _we..._" she emphasised with a tightening of her hold around him, "...missed out on the car chase..." then she eased off and looked up at him and broke into a smile. "...But a girl can't have everything," she added before returning into his embrace. The smile of someone having everything she wanted right now stayed on her face for some time.

-o0o-

**Deep voiced man** – "Next week, the stunning conclusion to "The Hot Chick Five Point Paralysing Nerve Block" and the reason why it got that name..."

-o0o-


	3. Chapter 3

I didn't get any Chuck or Chuck characters for my birthday. But next week, 'tis Chrissie, and to quote Dwayne Dibley: "You nebba, nebba know..."

**Caution:** Frequent strong language and now with unmissable adult themes. And _that_ should stop you from reading right now.

**Chuck Vs The Hot Chick Five Point Paralysing Nerve Block**

**Chapter Three.**

Reluctantly, Sarah eased herself out of Chuck's embrace saying, "We need to get you out of here before the TV cameras turn up."

"Right. Otherwise, that could be a fun conversation," he mimed speaking into an imaginary phone, "Hi Ellie, funny thing happened on the way...Why yes, I've always had this suit..." she led him away, dragging him by the hand, her eyes sparkling back at him as he continued, "...I know, Sarah looks great on TV... _No_, no we were _miles_ from that...oof."

The cops had corralled the open air parking lot off until they'd finished with the witnesses. Casey had already 'badged' himself into the cordon, and when Chuck and Sarah hove into view he got the uniform to wave them under the 'do not cross' tape that Chuck recognised from TV and Jeff's so called 'office' in the staff boys room.

Casey's black van led Chuck and Sarah's Beemer out, and past the thinning evacuees. This being LA, the cops were used to dealing with the glitterati and processed them as fast as possible. However, the van and the BMW were the only vehicles allowed out so far, and were given a massed stink eye by a lot of people who normally don't do that.

Chuck was very glad that it was Sarah's left 'cleave' that had suffered the tape removal. The alternative meant he may not have been able to sit on this side of her, let alone drive at all, and would be a danger to busses loaded with nuns and orphans all the way back to Echo Park. And was also the reason he'd made sure she was still wearing his jacket.

Which brought its own problems, Sarah wasn't a small girl by any means, but wearing his suit jacket, she looked like she was a little girl playing dress-ups in daddy's jacket. And that somehow immensely emphasised her femininity, which she certainly needed no extra help with. Ever.

Part way down the drive back onto the street, they were passing groups walking to get cabs, or a lift, having 'phoned a friend.' These were the people that the cops had already interviewed and had allowed to go, but the parking lot was still impounded since the sniffer beagle, Peanut, had identified one vehicle as having explosives. Casey had stood his ground and flashed his badge with a small growl when they tried to come near his van. The K9 officer wasn't happy with the big secret agent for hurting Peanut's feelings.

Chuck spotted a familiar face in the trudging few. He eased up and said, "Sarah, do you mind?" as he lowered the window.

When she realised what he wanted to do, it was too late.

"Jason! Need a lift?"

"What? Chuck, no! _Not_ a good idea," she hissed, but he'd already stopped.

Casey noticed in his mirror that the moron had stopped, so he barked a laugh and just kept going. The skirt would have to put up with him now.

Jason, and another man, turned and accepted Chuck's offer. This was obviously Jason's brother, Brad, who had the build of a former football player and now was running to chubby, Sarah thought.

As soon as Brad settled in behind Chuck, the car filled with the smell of alcohol. And tobacco, her wrinkled nose told her.

"Nks Buu... Chuck... Hey! Hi... 'm... I'm Brad," the man slurred before attempting to sober up when he saw Sarah. Brad leaned over to Jason, and beerily whispered in a clear voice, "Fuck, that's the one I was telling you about earlier," pointing to Sarah's chair back.

Chuck and Sarah sat frozen for a moment, and Chuck continued to drive. He was beginning to agree with Sarah, this _might_ have been a bad idea.

"So, aah, where can we drop you?" Chuck asked now desperately hoping for a, 'just around the corner, thanks.'

"Oh, anywhere downtown if that's not too far out of..." Jason replied before Brad interrupted.

"So how'd Butt-asss-ski manage to score some-someone like you?"

She tried to show that something _normal_ could be wonderful. With a smile at Chuck, she replied, "He saved the day, he fixed my phone."

That seemed to amuse Brad. With a sarcastic laugh, he leaned forward, closer to Chuck and spoke beer flavor into Chuck's airspace, "Shit Chucky. You still stuck in that shit hole? The ...what... the Buy More?"

-o0o-

"Christ, you know he was always a loser. School, what was it? Computer club, learning that Star what's-it language..."

"Klingon," said two voices. Chuck stayed silent, and kept driving.

"...and where the fuck did you get this car? It's great. I bet you hired it to impress your lady here... Or... are _you_ a hire job too..." Brad leant forward, and rested his hand on her jacketed shoulder, "Listen, we're gonna try some of the clubs, wanna come?" she looked at the hand, which he removed slowly.

"No thanks," was her icy reply.

"You can bring Butt-ass-ski here, if you want," he offered, slightly puzzled. He thought it had been a genuinely friendly gesture.

"Brad, I think Sarah and I are just going to go home," Chuck said, noting Sarah's smile at him.

"That's why you're a loser, Chuuck. You go home too early, 'n you _think,_" he turned his attention back to Sarah. "So, night clubs? You'd have a _great_ time," he offered, with an obvious insinuation.

His face underwent a light bulb moment. It all came together for him, the fancy car, the stunning babe in the hot outfit... It wasn't like the Chucky he knew from school. It was all fake...

"God, I get it now, she's a pro, you hired her and the car. I don't get why, though. You trying to schmooze your way up a greasy pole? And where'd you get the moolah?"

"Brad, shut up!"

"Aw fuck off Jason. Grow a pair. So, sweetie, how much? By the hour? Nah, a piece like you, you'd be a whole night deal..."

Sarah saw Chuck set his jaw, and he eased off the throttle, "Jason, I'm sorry buddy."

Jason had already figured it out. "Me too, look thanks for giving us a lift this far. Come on, Brad, we'll get a cab from here," he shrugged and tilted his head at Chuck as a silent apology.

"What, d'you grow a pair?"

Chuck eased the car over to the curb outside a 7-Eleven and turned in his seat to stare at Brad over his shoulder, "That's enough. Get out."

"Fuck off asshole! Keep going, we're going clubbing. 'N I'm damn sure your lady friend here, would a... preciate that."

Chuck opened his mouth, but Sarah silenced him by patting her hand on his thigh, and stage whispering to him, "I've got this one."

Chuck looked straight ahead. He both loved and dreaded that smile of hers.

He addressed the windshield, "Brad, I strongly advise..." Sarah opened her door, "...annnnd it's too late. Jase? I tried," Chuck shrugged.

Jason sighed, "Chuck, not your problem, I'm sorry. Brad! Time to go, you blew it again."

"Jason, fuck, you're as sorry as this long streak of pelican shit here," he waved somewhere in the direction of forward, "Chucky, the loser..." there was the sound of a car door opening. "Hey, hi there... come to join the party back..."

"Out!"

"Hey babe, easy, we've got time. See loser? This is hOWWWW!" this last word was accompanied by the sort of walnut crunching sound effect found during the credits section of some of the earlier Jackie Chan films.

Brad was now very white and feeling a very sick sort of sober as Sarah led him, still in a wrist lock, away from the car. The jacket had gotten in her way, so she shrugged it off to the ground as she frog marched him. Once she had him moving, she moved him into a half Nelson wrist lock combo and walked him at a brisk pace, straight into a brick wall beside the convenience store, holding his head face forward. She didn't quite break his nose.

As he stood there on tiptoe, quivering in pain, his mouth open in a silent, endless 'O' of pain and shock, she spoke, calmly at first, into his ear.

"Listen, asswipe. That, back there, is the man I love and the only man who will ever get more than a second glance from me, understand?"

"Gnnnn!" was all her victim could utter. Perhaps the brick wall in his face was a hindrance. She didn't give a shit.

Her voice was rising in volume, but she was past caring. "He tried, that one of the things that makes him great, he tried to be nice to you..." she tightened her grip.

"GNNNa."

"... and you've been nothing but a legit asshole all night. I saw you gawping earlier, and you know what? You're nothing! Nothing but a lonely fat fuck!"

Again, her grip shifted. Brad stood higher on his toes.

"You'll never, _never_ know what he did to me tonight... One kiss, Jesus, just one _look_ from him..."

Chuck had gotten out of the car and was standing with Jason, watching the situation. He saw her make her mind up. He started forward.

"Sarah, no! He's not... Sarah, he's had enough, let him go..."

"Hear that?" she hissed into Brad's ear. "That's the second time tonight he saved your life. So, let me give you something to remember, he is a man, a _real_ man, the only man, _and Chuck Bartowski is the man __**I love!**__"_ her voice rising to 'just below screaming' into his ear.

Keeping him in the lock, she stabbed a straight set of fingers into his left armpit, and then partway down the arm, a third jab just above the elbow, the fourth was right in the point of the elbow, Brad screamed at that one, and a last one back up at the top on the inside of his arm.

She released him, and he stood there, keening a wordless hurt, cradling his left arm. And then she repeated the process on his right arm. Now he couldn't even cradle either arm.

With deadly intent she told Brad in a scarily even tone, "You know when you bump your funny bone? Hurts like a sumbitch, right? Well, what I just gave you is the same thing, but this? This'll last at least a month... And that's both arms. So, during that time you won't be able to dress yourself, feed yourself, wipe your own ass, or as I'm sure you constantly do, cause you've been a complete tool so far, and it's the only action you'll ever get, waste a box of tissues whacking off to a **fucking gay porno!**" she finished with a raised voice.

All Brad could do was rock back and forth as tears of pain streamed down his face, unable to make a sound, he was unable to even look at her. When she backed away from him, Chuck nodded, indicating that it was safe for Jason to take Brad away.

As Jason led Brad away, with a glace over his shoulder at the pair, Chuck half waved at him, hoping he hadn't lost Jason as a friend and Jason returned the friendly gesture. He turned to Sarah and picked the jacket up off the ground, and shaking it out, he advanced toward the woman he loved.

It was perhaps the single scariest thing he'd ever done in his life. Which was saying something, considering the year he'd just had.

And then, as he looked at her, he knew for one of the few times in his life, he absolutely _knew_ what to do.

She was looking at him with an expression he'd never seen on her before. He tried to smile reassuringly. It almost looked like she was scared. Scared, Sarah Walker...

Sarah stood there in something approaching terrified horror... the man she loved, who'd somehow become the centre of her whole world, and he'd heard the whole thing. The whole damn thing, she realised. 'Oh fuck!' didn't even begin to cover the situation.

And to make things infinitely worse, he was smiling at her.

"Chuck..." she began. Perhaps she could save the situation, "... Chuck, I was protecting our cov..."

He wrapped the jacket around her shoulders and just went, "Shhh..." as he kept his arms around her.

"Chuck..." she was trembling, she never trembled, "...no, it's not..."

"It's just all for the cover, right?"

She silently nodded into his chest. God, she loved him. He was letting her off... He knew, he knew and he was making it easy for her. One more reason she loved ...

"And if you can make me believe that _that_ was an act, you deserve an Oscar," he paused and considered, "or at least a Primetime Emmy," he peered down, almost upside-down, at her with a smile. "Sarah Walker?" his gaze held hers and she blinked, unable to speak, hardly daring to breath. "I love you too," he couldn't have smiled any bigger if he'd just been offered a job hosting a two hour TV show that road tested very expensive cars, and then blew shit up to prove or disprove urban myths.

Her face was into his shirt now somehow. And his shirt was wet. And she was having trouble speaking, "...Chuck, no, I can't be..."

"Shhh," he tightened his grip around her and rocked her slowly.

"...If they find out ... I'm compromised..." her running nose didn't help. "They'll force us... apart. I can't ..." she wiped her nose, like a child and then the dam broke, "...can't protect you, because I lov... but I can't ever lose you..."

And he was holding her, rocking her back and forth as she wept.

Chuck smiled at the brick wall over her head as he continued to rock the woman in his arms, "I should know better by now, but you never cease to amaze me, Sarah Lisa Walker. I sort of always thought I'd be the one to say it first, but... you..." he held her out so he could peer into her soul, "but the woman I love has amazed me yet again..." he said proudly, and held her in close again.

"Chuck," she muffled into his chest, "if they find out..."

"So, they find out. So what?"

"But you've compromised me, I can't protect..."

"And how will that be any different from what you do now? Sarah, I've seen you defend me, not just from guns, bad guys and stuff, but you've stood up for me against the CIA and..."

"Chuck..." she pulled away from him, to see his face and make him understand, "...this is different... this is _really_ different. I'll get transferred as far away from you as possible. And you... you could end up in a bunker..."

"Can I tell you something? Without you, I'd _want_ the bunker. You, _you're_ the reason I can do this. You are the reason I can keep doing what we do."

"...But when... You said you were worried about Ellie and Awesome, that you wouldn't accept the bunker..."

"I was an idiot. I didn't know. Sarah, I didn't know it then, but what we do is dangerous, you knew that, and you still wanted to protect me. But without you, I get it that it would be safer for me, for my family if I went into the bunker."

He cupped her face and kissed her gently. "And I couldn't... I...it wouldn't be living. Not without you. I love you."

She stared solemnly into his eyes, saying nothing.

"So, Sarah, it's you. It's _always_ been you. Do you love me? Do you want me free? Out, roaming the streets at night?"

"Saving the world," she whispered. "Why are you always one of those 'glass half full' guys?"

"Not if it's one of Awesome's protein shakes I'm not. Cause then it's a 'way too full' kind of situation."

She sobbed a laugh, and lifted her beautiful, tear streaked face to his, "We'll... we'll keep this quiet as long as we can."

And then she stood on her toes and kissed him, meaning it like she had that one time before...

Only this time, Chuck didn't take his time in reacting. His hand found the gap in the tape he'd made earlier, and was doing something indescribably to the skin on her side. She moaned, and wanting him closer, pressed herself against his full length. From head to knee, their bodies pressed close, seeking more contact...

As she writhed against him, she felt something try to press into her lower belly. Actually, it seemed to be heading up to her belly button... She was forced to break off the kiss so she could giggle. Giggling seemed to mix oddly with kissing Chuck. But in this case, it worked.

She cleared her throat, "Chuck? Something seems to... have..." she glanced down meaningfully and then bit her bottom lip as she concluded, "..._arisen_..." with undisguised glee in her eyes.

"..Umm..."

She kissed him. "Shhh... Chuck, I'll clear things so you stay with me, you..." she tilted her head at the convenience store, "...go buy some... supplies."

After a moment of processing, his eyebrows shot up, and you could _see_ the light bulb switch on. Chuck, stumbling slightly, headed for the store. And then paused, mentally debating something, then turned back to her.

"You're gonna tell Casey I've freaked out or something from the bomb, aren't you?"

She tried to look sternly at him. "My place and we work on your little problem there..." she tilted her head at his waist, "..._or_ your place and you work things out for yourself."

"Oh look! I've got the shakes... must've been that bomb."

"Smart boy, now _go!_" she said with a grin as she got his phone out of the jacket pocket, "Oh...uh Chuck?"

He paused again, and turned to look at her.

She held up her fingers in a 'peace' sign. "Two boxes..." she whispered.

He grinned a lot as he tripped over his feet walking through the door.

-o0o-

"Casey, its Walker here."

'_Huh! I can't help but notice that you and the moron aren't here yet. So I can assume you still have a multi-billion dollar government asset in your possession?'_

"Look, Chuck's... I think Chuck got shaken up by the bomb earlier, and he might give something away with Ellie if I take him..."

'_So you thought it'd be better if you took him back to your place, dip him in...'_

"Look, he's really..."

'_Walker... Sarah, I'm not a moron. And it's about bloody time, but it took you long enough. Just make sure the pair of you can walk straight on Monday morning, OK?'_

For the second time in minutes, she didn't know what to say, or hope.

'_And you, the pair of you, are _still_ on call, just like normal. And just like normal, the pair of you say or do anything actionable on camera, I have to pass it on to Beckman, OK?'_

"Casey..."

'_I'll see if I can have a clean-up crew take your clothes and that precious over-engineered rebadged VeeDub of yours, over to your place tomorrow. We need that BMW back. You... you have a good week end, Walker.'_

"...Casey, why are you doing this?"

There was an uncharacteristic pause, _'Worked for years, never had a partner. Never needed one. But you're a pretty good one. The moron too, I guess. I'd hate to break in a new partner, and God knows what Bartowski would be like without you, if you got transferred.'_

"John..."

'_Don't fuck this up. Huh. Well, you know what I mean. See you Monday.'_

-o0o-

Nazibor (whose name badge read 'Hi, my name is: Bob') Kohpwanindenuts was tired, wired and bored. The convenience store was in an inconvenient location. Too far from the movies, too industrial for kids to get an after school Slurpee fix and no gas pumps. After four thirty, it died in the arse. So when the lanky nerd looking guy came in just before close, Kohpwanindenuts had already worked close to nine hours, with another ten minutes to go. He glanced up from the laptop he'd hidden from camera view.

The tall dude was wearing what looked like the remains of a pretty good suit, but he was looking a tad rumpled. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and saw a total glamour model on the phone outside. She was wearing the missing part of the lanky one's suit. And to bookend the deal, she was just as dishevelled as he was.

Kohpwanindenuts made a mental bet with himself, and won. Tall Dude found the condom shelf and after a brief selection process picked up two packets of frangas.

The ultra ultra thin ones he noticed. Well, with what was waiting for him outside, Kohpwanindenuts would have picked those one too. Mind you, with a date like that, Nerdy Dude should really learn to plan ahead.

Tall Dude paid, and practically ran for the door. Kohpwanindenuts didn't blame him.

Because he was tired, and was on his third can of florescent yellow, guava based carbonated shit-flavoured beverage in two hours, it took Kohpwanindenuts a few minutes before he realised that Lanky Dude and Super Model might have done something to get that dishevelled and it might be worth watching on one of the outside security cameras.

Officially he wasn't authorised for access to the video system, but having a Microsoft Certificate under his belt for the past five years, the authorisation level on the DVR computer presented as much of a problem as finding a way to 'correct' the stock counts of the Mother drinks in the fridge.

The feed from the front of the store just showed them pull up in a nice seven series Beemer. You could see the doors open, but that was it. He had better luck with the anti-graffiti camera on the blank wall beside the store...

He didn't see any canoodling, which is what he was hunting for, but he kind of lucked out. Super Model had lost her 'daddy's' jacket, and was strong arming some fat sob into the brickwork, obviously yelling at him.

Too bad the store's cheap arsed owner hadn't sprung for audio, but you can't have everything. A little later, she stabbed him with some sort of stiff fingered thing a whole bunch of times, and then fat slob blubbed like a baby. Some other bloke came into view and led the crying fat slob away, and then Lanky Dude came into shot, and wrapped her in the jacket he'd seen her in when she was standing outside. And every one wandered off.

'_What the hell,'_ he thought. The angles were wrong, you couldn't really see their faces, and the thought reoccurred to him, _'kinda pointless if you want to stop graffiti,'_ but might as well see if anyone wants to see it. He saved the video clip and using his thumb drive, moved it to his laptop, and uploaded it.

It took ten minutes for the first hit. Half an hour later, it had hit twenty, but Kohpwanindenuts had started his other job at the gas station by then and forgot about it.

-o0o-

When they got into her hotel room, they discovered they didn't actually have time to reach the bed. Technically, they didn't actually make it into the room for some time, and began to consummate their love in the little hallway, where he'd once asked her her middle name.

As soon as he began to close the door behind them, she was in his arms, kissing him hungrily, her long legs practically wrapped around him. His hand roamed her body, freeing her from the 'Hollywood tape.' His left hand found its way under her thigh length hem to her dress. And that was when he discovered...

It really shouldn't have been a surprise. He'd half suspected it all night since he'd first seen her standing in the hallway, her form outlined perfectly by the curve hugging fabric. There'd been no tell-tale lines...

Still, he double checked, and then his hand whipped back as if he'd been scalded.

"Um... Sarah?"

She giggled as she panted slightly (he was breathing hard for some reason too), and rested her forehead against his, peering into his eyes, "...Yeah, sorry 'bout that..." she kept eye contact with him and there was a Velcro ripping sound from somewhere intimate down between them, and then she held the small Sig Sauer off to one side, still in its holster as she let it fall with a controlled thud on the little bench separating the doorway from the rest of her room. Her eyes glistened at him, and he smirked back.

"What?" she wanted to know what amused him.

His lips tried to keep straight. "You've still got knives on you, don't you?"

She reapplied herself to him, and guided his hand back to where he'd found her gun. Keeping her lips to his, she replied, "A girl's got to keep _some_ secrets... Don't worry, it's not _there,_" she emphasised his hand placement by trapping it between their bodies and then moaned into his ear.

Shortly after that, they were kind of wrestling on the floor.

Eventually though, they _did _make it to the bed.

They had to. The surplus 'Hollywood tape' that had been thrown to the floor earlier with such careless and reckless abandon kept sticking to them in odd awkward locations and moments. And that kept giving them both the giggles. It both got in the way, and at the same time, tried to stick them together.

They fell on the covers, still laughing, and tearing sticky double sided tape off each other. It came off her body easier. There was no fur for it to stick to.

She found that endlessly entertaining, and kept sticking little bits back onto him.

-o0o-

It was about four months later, that Sarah was having dinner with her sort-of secret boyfriend at his place. Devon came home, as normal still dressed in scrubs and greeted his soon-to-be brother-in-law and his lady, "Hey, you two..." he noticed that they were sitting a lot closer together than they used to, and now he thought about it, had been doing so for a few months. "...Hi honey," he concluded as he kissed Ellie's cheek.

"Hey Awesome," greeted Chuck as Sarah waved shyly.

"Hey honey, how was casuality today?" asked Ellie, knowing Devon and pulled the short straw and done a week's shift in Westside's Emergency department.

"Oh, you know mostly normal... bumps and scrapes, remove something that takes C-cell batteries... Hey, did you guys know there's a viral video out there?"

"Think there might be more than one, Devon," posited Chuck, ignoring Sarah dig into his ribs with her elbow, and asked innocently, "so what's this one about?"

"Well, we had another four victims today, they'd watched it and tried it out. Apparently some hot chick.."

"Devon!"

"...sorry babe, that's what they told me... some super model goes postal on a fat guy, and she hits him in a bunch of acupressure nerve blocks. They call it the hot chick five point nerve block or something," he took a swig of the shake he'd left in the fridge as he sat down at the table. "Mmmm, smells great honey."

"Annnd?" asked Chuck. Sarah seemed to find the salt shaker fascinating.

"Well, this is like the third group I know of since Sunday and these idiots watched it and tried it out. Afterwards, they couldn't move their arms, and all said it hurt like when you hit your funny bone, but it didn't go away. As far as I can tell, the effects could last for days."

"Or weeks, even," muttered Chuck quietly. Sarah had moved onto the napkins, glowing slightly pink by now.

"So, not a lot I could do for them. Gave them over the counter pain killers and sent them home. Chuck, you're the computer guy, reckon you could find it?"

Chuck glanced at Sarah (who was now onto the hem of the table cloth and was contemplating crawling under it) and smiled, "Yeah, you know? I think I've already seen it, Devon."

-o0o-

Casey shifted the headphones off one ear, so he could continue monitoring. He took a thoughtful sip from his glass of Johnny Walker Red, as he adjusted his third computer (the one the NSA _didn't_ know about) and brought up Youtube.

He had a personal mission. He had a video to find.

When he found it, he paused it while he topped the glass off, and clicked 'play.'

Afterwards, he laughed out loud for the first time in years and picked up the glass, tilting it in a silent salute to the apartment across the courtyard.

'_Don't ever piss her off, Chuck,'_ he thought.

**Fin.**

-o0o-

(Bah Humbug and Merry Christmas to the lot of you! Humour me and survive New Years, and I'll see you then, OK?)


End file.
